Job 17

1 And if I be wicked, woe unto me: and if just, I shall not lift up my head, being filled with affliction and misery. 2 And for pride thou wilt take me as a lioness, and returning, thou tormentest me wonderfully. 3 Thou renewest thy witnesses against me, and multipliest thy wrath upon me, and pains war against me. 4 Why didst thou bring me forth out of the womb? O that I had been consumed, that eye might not see me! 5 I should have been as if I had not been, carried from the womb to the grave. 6 Shall not the fewness of my days be ended shortly? Suffer me, therefore, that I may lament my sorrow a little: 7 Before I go and return no more, to a land that is dark and covered with the mist of death: 8 A land of misery and darkness, where the shadow of death, and no order, but everlasting horror dwelleth. 10 Then Sophar the Naamathite answered, and said: 11 Shall not he that speaketh much, hear also? or shall a man full of talk be justified? 12 Shall men hold their peace to thee only? and when thou hast mocked others, shall no man confute thee? 13 For thou hast said: My word is pure, and I am clean in thy sight. 14 And I wish that God would speak with thee, and would open his lips to thee, 15 That he might shew thee the secrets of wisdom, and that his law is manifold, and thou mightest understand that he exacteth much less of thee, than thy iniquity deserveth. 16 Peradventure thou wilt comprehend the steps of God, and wilt find out the Almighty perfectly?